Hearing Ray’s comnt, Es paused in her actions, her hand still for a mont before she calmly reached for the coffee powder sitting nearby. She took a asured scoop, placing it into her cup, and then, with a faint smile, said, "I like my coffee with milk."
Ray froze for a second, the mory suddenly coming back to him. He had completely forgotten.
Back when Es had just signed the contract, and they were all preparing to act like a picture-perfect couple, Es, Ray, and the Aron brothers had agreed to morize each other’s likes and dislikes. It was part of the deal—an effort to avoid any slip-ups that might expose their façade.
Es had even written out a list, detailing each preference ticulously. One thing was crystal clear on that list: Es loved her coffee with just milk, no water.
As the mory settled in, Ray felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He looked down, avoiding her eyes.
"Oh, right... I’m sorry. I forgot," he murmured, offering a weak, apologetic smile. But the emotion in his eyes was harder to conceal this ti. He turned his attention back to the bowl in his hands, scrubbing at it absentmindedly once again.
Es, unfazed, placed her cup in the microwave, setting the tir. It was a strange way to make coffee, but it was how she liked it. As she pressed the button, her gaze shifted back to Ray.
She watched him for a mont, his hands still working over the already spotless bowl, before she spoke again, her tone casual but pointed. "If you keep scrubbing that bowl, it’s going to break into pieces."
Ray’s hands stilled at her words, the reality of what he was doing hitting him. He glanced at the bowl, now worn with scratches from his overzealous cleaning, and then back at Es. There was a seriousness in her look, like she was questioning how he had missed sothing so obvious.
He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her unspoken concern. "Yeah... you’re right," he muttered, setting the bowl down gently, finally letting it go.
The sharp beeping of the microwave echoed through the quiet kitchen, a sharp contrast to the heavy silence that had hung between them. Es moved swiftly, pressing the button to stop the sound and then taking out her coffee.
The cup was burning hot, but she grasped it firmly with her bare hands, her expression unchanging. Ray opened his mouth, wanting to tell her to be careful, but the words stuck in his throat as she held it like it was nothing.
Es took a slow sip of the coffee before speaking, her tone calm but cutting through the air like a knife.
"You know, Ray, if you want to cry, then cry. If you want to shout, shout. If you want to ask sothing, then ask. This is your ho. You don’t have to hide here. This isn’t a place where you need to stifle your emotions, like you’re afraid of being seen."
Her words settled heavily in the space between them, the bluntness of her observation striking at the heart of what Ray had been trying so hard to avoid acknowledging. Es continued, her voice steady as she took another sip.
"I don’t understand why you and your brothers act like this—always running off to so work or experints, using them as an excuse. And here you are, the eldest, scrubbing a dish that the servants washed hours ago, trying to hide your tears."
Ray felt the weight of her words hit him like a shockwave, the truth undeniable. He stared down at his hands, still holding the rag he’d been using, now limp in his grip.
He had known the dish had already been cleaned, but he hadn’t known what else to do. Es didn’t need him. She handled the company with such precision and efficiency that his involvent felt unnecessary. His brothers were carving their own paths, independent, strong.
And what about him? Ray felt a familiar knot tighten in his chest. Thanks to Es, he could move freely around the house without anyone judging him or treating him like a burden. But outside? Outside, he still had to pretend, still had to act like the cripple everyone expected him to be. No one knew the truth, and for the world outside their ho, Ray was just the useless brother, the one who had been left behind.
The thoughts swirled in his head, darker and heavier with each passing second. He felt like a burden, to his family, to his brothers, to Es. A useless husband, a useless son. What was he even worth anymore?
"If you are done pitying yourself, then stop this nonsense and do so work," Es said, her tone clipped as she took another sip of her coffee. The casualness in her words hit Ray like an arrow to an open wound, igniting a fire he had been trying to suppress.
"What the hell do you think, Es?" Ray exploded, his voice rising as the anger coursed through him. "You think I’m acting? That I like feeling this way? You sit there, telling to be happy like it’s a switch I can flip. Do you even understand what I’m going through right now?"
Es remained silent, watching him, but her silence only fueled Ray’s frustration.
"I can’t even protect my brothers," he continued, his voice breaking slightly. "I didn’t see the danger coming, Es. I was supposed to protect them, and I failed. And now... my own mother, my own mother, didn’t even tell her biggest fear. She hid it from . How am I supposed to deal with that?"
Ray knew he was shouting at the wrong person, that Es wasn’t the source of his pain. But he needed an outlet, and right now, Es was there, calm and unmoved, which only made him angrier. His hand twitched, the urge to lash out physically just beneath his skin.
....
What !
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